


Messy, Wet, Hard Ground

by HogwartsToAlexandria



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Bathroom Sex, Canon Divergence - Thanos dies in Avengers: Infinity War, Cheating, Complicated Relationships, Extramarital Affair, F/M, Kissing, M/M, Married Pepper/Tony, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, difficult conversations, hair petting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:40:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26182825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HogwartsToAlexandria/pseuds/HogwartsToAlexandria
Summary: Tony's words wouldn't come out, this whole time, and now it's too late, they're all hurt, more than they'll ever be able to forget, yet maybe not too late to heal still.
Relationships: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange
Comments: 6
Kudos: 53
Collections: Flash Fuck Around 2020





	Messy, Wet, Hard Ground

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bold_seer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bold_seer/gifts).



> Hope you'll enjoy this dear! 💙

The door is pushed back as hushedly as his mildly drunk, mildly conscious brain can move about. His lips feel raw, fiery, irritated yet wanting.

More. He must have more. 

Tony closes his fingers around Stephen's wrists pinning them to the wall he's just pushed him against and grinds against him, gasping, mindless, deaf to the music outside the stall, overly aware of every little breath that leaves the other man's mouth. 

"Are you sure?" Stephen is asking, again, why does he always ask that, why— "Pepper? Tony, what about Pepper?" 

Tony chuckles in Stephen's throat, but it's really a groan. It hurts his throat as it passes, makes his heart pang but he thinks it might be the booze too. Who the fuck knows. 

"Who the fuck knows?" Tony finds himself repeating out loud. He gazes up slowly but in time still, to see Stephen's clear blue eyes widen almost too wide, his mouth open almost too open. He sticks his lips to Stephen's before he can say anything else. "I've been wanting to suck you off all night long, Strange. All fucking night long." 

That should shut Stephen up. Generally does at least. And it's true. It's so true that Tony's hands hurt from the fists he's balled them into trying not to plunge for the other man before five? Maybe ten minutes ago. Speeches be damned, he's hammered anyway. Wouldn't be much of a speaking engagement, now would it? But sucking dick, that he can still do just fine. Perfectly even. 

"I'll make you feel good," he slurs in Stephen's ear, and the sorcerer doesn't react until he's pushing at Tony's shoulders, really pushing, and Tony's on his knees and Stephen gasps again. "I'll make you feel so good."

* * *

Tony doesn't really get hangovers anymore. At least not in the way that he used to. He doesn't get massive headaches, or get sick, the earth doesn't sway and bright lights aren't really an issue. No. He just gets incredibly tired, both physically and mentally. 

And the silhouette of Stephen's body beside him in the bed, the linen sheets Pepper selected outlining the man's lithe frame certainly add to the whole picture his mind so tries to wrap. Stephen's sleeping, and Pepper is away. With Morgan. 

Tony's wife and daughter are away on a vacation Pepper said they needed — away from him — and Tony is waking up in their marital bed with his lover. His life is fucked up. He is. He's a fucking mess. 

"I can hear you self-deprecating from here, Stark." 

Stephen's voice is rough, and his motions are jerky when he sits up, and all Tony can think for most of the next stretched out moment is how pretty Stephen looks in the morning. The amount they've both had to drink the night before doesn't change that. His hair looks positively floppy, with those white streaks that Tony always wants to thread his fingers in, and those eyes, slitted as of now, but so blue, so stormy. 

It brings forth images of a dozen nights spent together, of shirts getting wrinkled and torn, of magical portals he's been pushed through countless times, and pushed again until the back of his knees hit a bed, or his head a wall. It brings forth memories of Stephen's teeth sinking in his neck and his nails leaving red lines down his back, clawing at his hips while Tony's own hands searched for purchase and found it in the man's hair, his lips closing around two names, letting out one, never sure it was the right one. Too drunk. Too horny. Too lost. 

"Stop that." Stephen snaps, pushing his hand away when Tony sits up himself and brushes a strand of hair behind Stephen's ear, tentatively. 

They stare at each other, searching each other's eyes and it's happening again — that look is back in Stephen's eyes, taking over his facial muscles, all of them contracting and guarding his emotions, although not as well as the man thinks. 

"Don't," Tony whispers. "Come on, don't do that." He takes the hand Stephen pushed him away with in his own, turns it palm up and brushes his thumb over the soft skin of Stephen's wrist. 

"You're not drunk anymore, I'll be on my way." Stephen says, trying to take his hand away but Tony grips his wrist more firmly as a result, still mindful of the man's old injuries, always mindful of those. He scoffs. 

"I don't need to be drunk to want you." 

Strange gives him a wry, dry look. "That's not what I said." 

"I don't need anything other than you to want you." Tony whispers, ducking his head to catch Stephen's gaze again. 

"Oh, shut up." Stephen glares at him. 

"I…" Tony huffs, rubbing his face and pulling on his hair just a tad too hard. 

"What about her, Stark? What about your wife?" Stephen presses then, and Tony knows he brought this on himself, knows how much he's avoided that conversation, at all hours of day and night and in every situation that has led to him and Stephen tangling limbs in either of their beds. He knows Stephen has tried before and he doesn't blame him for the fear he sees in the man's eyes. The anger too. 

Tony wants to kiss him, clash their teeth together and fuck the hurt out of the man he can't bring himself to part from, can't make himself forget. Not after Titan. Not after travelling through space and avoiding death and desolation by joining forces. Not after almost losing Peter and having Stephen to thank for saving him. Not after saving the universe together and then drifting in the cold and dead nothingness of the universe where Thanos had snapped before he died, only to be found again by this same man. 

He doesn't kiss him though, knows,  _ understands _ , that's not what Stephen wants anymore, not now. 

"Is it possible to love two people at once?" Tony whispers, still holding onto Stephen's wrist, almost feeling the man's pulse under his thumb, certainly feeling how Stephen tenses next to him. 

"This is an incredibly unfair question to ask me, Tony." 

Tony nods, biting his lip, and the insides of his cheeks. Definitely too hard. He can taste blood. He can taste the words he says next. 

"It's true though. It's fucking true. I know we've been playing at this, dirty, sneaky thing between us like that's all there is and it's all on me, I made us do that— No don't, don't say I didn't  _ make _ you, I did, I'm so sorry for that. I am. But fuck. Stephen,  _ fuck! _ " Tony feels like he could sob, but Stephen is turning around in the bed, tugging his hand out of his grasp and getting up and that's not at all how this needs to go. How does this need to go? He can't…

"Don't leave. Please." Tony gets up along with him, uncaring of his nudity as he walks into the bathroom after Stephen. 

All Tony can see is how taut Stephen's back looks, and the traces of last night in the imprint of his fingers around his shoulders. But then Stephen turns around, and Tony does sob, because Stephen's eyes are filled with tears that look so unnatural in them, so used that Tony is to seeing them filled with mirth or fakely haughty looks. Tears. 

"I love you," Tony rushed to say, but it doesn't feel like the right thing, even though it's true, it's so true it hurts so much, and that's why. Of course it is. 

Stephen's hands shake when he brings them up to wipe at his eyes and he almost doubles over before Tony closes the distance between them. He pulls Stephen to him and cries too, Stephen lets him and buries his face in Tony's neck. 

"Talk to her, please." Stephen whispers, forever after, and Tony tenses, and then relaxes, and nods. He should have done that a long time ago. It's what Pepper asked for too. For him to talk. She's not stupid. She's not a fool. Of course she knows —  _ "But I want you to say it, Tony, for all our sakes, you need to be the one to say it."  _

"I'll talk to Pepper, yes." Tony whispers back, holding Stephen tighter, threading his fingers in the man's hair, trying to breathe better, trying to hear if Stephen manages to gulp some air in too. "I will, I promise." 


End file.
